* December 20, 2007 *

Max Anders looked out the window of his penthouse office, considering what he considered to be his kingdom. Or almost his kingdom.

Certainly from a financial standpoint, he had access to a lot more wealth and influence than any of the other factions.

James Fleischer entered the room behind him, moving very swiftly. "I know what they're going to do."

"Oh?" asked Max Anders/Kaiser.

"ForgeTech is going to remove what's left of that Suezmax-class container ship," said James/Krieg.

"You don't say," said Kaiser, not moving.

"They do that, it'll open the Bay back up for shipping," said James.

"Do tell," said Max.

"So what do we do?" asked James.

"We watch the event from a very good vantage point," said Max Anders, finally turning to look at his Gesselschaft contact.

"Why aren't you surprised, or concerned?" asked James.

"Because I've known about it for a week, I have an e-mail on it from the Mayor's office inviting me." Max turned back to look out the window. "I've also bought a portion of the rail lines that are going to be rebuilt that will run the trains that will take things from the ships to places all across the country. If it goes as I anticipate, I could see a 25% increase in profits over the next ten years. Not to mention the opportunities for smuggling and otherwise taking advantage of all that shipping."

"Oh," said James.

"Yes, oh," said Max as drily as he could. Which was quite dry, he'd practiced it. It was a useful skill.

James Fleischer looked down at the Docks area but the distance was enough he could only see some activity, not what it was.

Max was unruffled. Either this test of the device worked, and it was the start of a revitalized Brockton Bay, or it failed and he would gather some information about ForgeTech and how they handled that failure.

If they failed, he would have expended some money that he would recoup later on. ForgeTech would have some egg on their face but he could use that. If they succeeded, he could profit. Profit very well indeed.

Sometimes it was good to be him. Still, there was something he needed to bring up. "So, tell me. How did you lose Porzellanpuppe?"

James swallowed nervously. "Ah, you heard about that. It wasn't me."

"Details, Krieg, I want details." Max regarded James, teeth bared.

* Docks *

"Well, she's a cape of some kind. Maybe one of those Case 53s?" said Patrick, the heavily tattooed man examining the woman.

"It's her skin, but it's like she's a living mannequin or something," noted Annette Hebert. "Raise your right arm, dear."

The living doll regarded her blankly, the pure white eyes a little unnerving.

"The tags on her clothes are from a German company, Fräulein Backfisch," said Taylor as she examined the jacket taken off the doll-girl. "Though when I looked it up, they specialize in fashions from the early to mid 20th Century and her clothing is more like a tracht sort of thing."

"'Trackt'?" asked Annette.

"Tracht - traditional clothing mountains, I'm thinking Bavarian but it's not normally the sort of thing I would work with," said Taylor. "Huh. Möchten Sie etwas essen oder trinken?"

The doll moved to regard her but didn't respond.

Taylor was about to ask something else when the doll's stomach growled.

"I think that requires no translation," said Annette.

"I..." Taylor stopped and then visibly winced and almost staggered.

"What's wrong?" asked Annette.

"Big one, VERY big," said Taylor, getting up. "Uhm, if you'll take over. Have Jarvis run translations for you. I have to check this out. It's big and weird."

"Go then, I've got this and the boys are right outside if something goes wrong," said Annette.

Taylor stopped outside, looking up at Captain Cavill in his Space Marine armor. "I think I need you to tell me about something called a 'Necron' if that rings any bells."

* Not far away *

"...demonstration of some sort of advanced recycling technology, Great Lung."

"Good."

"Good?"

Kenta sighed. Getting easily intimidated underlings was easy. Getting ones that weren't idiots was much harder. Some said that he only promoted the most ruthless and amoral of the united gangs to ranks in his organization. If the situation were different here, he might have gone that approach as it COULD be effective.

The situation was not different, and that meant taking a different approach.

"Akira," called out Kenta/Lung. THAT one was a petty miserly vicious punk, but biddable.

(SMACK!) "Ow!"

"Thank you, Akira," said Kenta as he put his focus back on the subject. Since this was a gathering of his lieutenants for summaries of activities, they'd all get the message. "Tetsuo, I want the street vendors present along Dogbert Drive and Pieman Street. Cold weather so hot noodles and tea. Dumplings too, those ought to sell well."

"I'll get Tamashiro to bring his best dumpling game. Sir!"

"Su Li, any of your girls in the area - make sure they're only doing the encouraging and advertising. No muggings, no light fingers. There's going to be increased surveillance looking for that sort of thing going on. Direct people to the stalls, give directions to businesses in our area."

"As you command, Great Lung."

"Ataru, try not to screw up. Those empty lots over on Ackerman and Dolphin? They have been cleared?"

"Yes, Great Lung."

"Take some spray paint, put parking spot lines down, we're going to charge for those parking spots as they're walking distance to the event. You and your men provide security, nobody steals from the cars parked there. Call it... $20 as a fee. Get some of the fencing from that abandoned construction zone over on 27th. We'll put it back after everything is over."

"Yes, Great Lung. I think I can get some tickets to use as receipts from Doctor Lao's pharmacy."

"Good point," said Lung, nodding. Ataru was using the brain above his waistline, a good sign. "Shinsen. What does the forecast say for Saturday?"

"Clear, mostly calm, highs in the low 40s."

Kenta thought a few moments. "Everyone's going to be bundled up pretty heavily. A few flyers for that casino, is it open yet?"

"Almost, Great Lung. It will be another two months for the electrical work and plumbing to be redone."

"Ah, Ling. Good. Make flyers for the Grand Opening. The coin-op laundries?"

"Profits are steady at the moment, I expect an uptick when the weather warms especially with the dry cleaners."

"Steady profits are a good thing," admitted Kenta. His eyes swept the small crowd. "Remember, above board at this event. If the Empire or someone starts trouble, distract and fade. Let the PRT or other forces deal with the mess unless it is one of our businesses being harmed. In that case, such as a vandal trying to break into a car in those lots? Deal accordingly. We stand to make a profit out of this. Do not disappoint me."

* Scrapyard Sam *

He'd been aware of the brief pain of the shots, and he'd been aware of the scritchies thereafter.

He had been an older dog and had a lot of pain, aware that his time with his human was short and growing shorter.

That was fine, that was the way of things. He did not fear death, it was just something that happened. Not eager to enter the final darkness, but he'd had a good run.

Found in a ruin, runt of the litter, survived by hiding where his litter couldn't. The strange two-legs that eventually found him, put him in a small area, fed him and gave him shelter. Taught him that the two-legs could be friends. Eventually pairing him up with his very own two-legs.

Friend/packmate clumsy/smart two-legs fed him, kept him safe and he kept her safe.

He didn't hurt as much now as he had before. His fur, which had been falling off, was now glossy and thick again! His teeth didn't hurt when he crunched on the hard food.

Friend/packmate/human was showing him new tricks which led to treats and praise. Praise was good, treats were good, praise and treats were best!

His human was excited and happy about something, which made Sam happy as well. Trip? Go? Some of the words he knew and some he did not.

He hoped this meant they were going somewhere together. Then maybe he could show her his new trick!

* Cafe Flamenco *

He had ordered a hot tea, one sugar, and made his way to the table where his associate waited. "Charles."

That companion nodded at him. "Eric."

"Big display Saturday," said Eric before taking a big sip of his tea.

"You attending?" asked Charles.

"Yes, actually. There are Nazis about, someone has to keep an eye on them." Eric inclined his head slightly.

"I'm not. Crowds pressing up against me, it's hard not to read them and it gets overwhelming," admitted Charles.

"Not fond of crowds myself, but unless someone starts something I'm not planning on getting involved," said Eric before taking another sip. "Hmmm. Not the best blend here. I think it's store brand."

"Ah, that is tragic," said Charles with some humor. "I'll be nearby for the event. Oh, and one other thing I wanted to bring up. She's been experimenting with the X-Gene. There's a dog."

Eric put the teacup down. "A dog?"

"Older dog, dying, the owner consented to experimental treatment. She successfully used the X-Gene. No sign of powers. Yet, at least."

"An X-Dog?" asked Eric, making a face. "I hope that does not become a habit."

"An experiment as I understand it, the rejuvenation technique for canines is less than 100% and you know enough about the child," said Charles, letting the last word trail off.

Eric smirked. "Anything less than 100% is not going to satisfy her. Yes, did rather get that impression."

* December 21, 2007 *

"Ugh, where did I put my 16mm box-end?" grumped Taylor as she searched the available horizontal surfaces for the errant tool.

There was a brief rumbling, which she mostly ignored as she really wanted the upgrades on the shields that her newest technology download had given her.

The aesthetics of the whole Necron technology though? Yeah, screw that stuff. She wasn't dark and edgy. Fortunately everything she built already tended to go more into her style, which was either sleek with glowing power lines or retro-futuristic or could have fit on the set of an old black-and-white mad scientist lab.

She was versatile, what of it?

Well, that or she was deliberately going with a different style like with the Space Marine armor.

Then the connection formed and she felt her clones pop themselves so that they could get this new knowledge field and investigate further.

She was up to eight shadow clones now, because this was something she was constantly using and getting better at.

"Got to hit the books," said two of them.

"Here's the wrench," said one of them.

"Back to upgrading the shields," announced the other five.

"Honestly, a girl genius' work is never done," said the original Taylor as she got back to work.

"Never done, never done," sang back the departing Taylors to the tune of "A Policeman's Lot Is Not A Happy One."

Three hours later, some of her clones finished preparations and popped themselves. She sent out new ones immediately to work on upgrading other defenses. By 2am, the last of her clones dismissed themselves.

At 02:45 in the morning, one of her Space Marines stepped out of the shadows of the warehouse and bundled her off from the computer desk she'd fallen asleep at to the cot they'd set up for that exact purpose.

Sergeant Isao Tamakichi looked at the design sitting on the display before locking the computer, smiling and shaking his head at the device blueprinted there. It was a good thing their young charge had some measure of wisdom and kept the most destructive technologies to herself, as he had no desire to see some of the politicians ordering THAT sort of thing to be used.

* December 22, 2007 *

It was decided to do it on a Saturday and to give people warning that it was happening.

The Suezmax container ship Fairweather Journey was sitting in the mouth of the Bay as it had ever since the riots. Where, in a move that should have gotten them inclusion in a "what could go wrong" video, people upset about losing jobs decided to block off the majority of sea access from the bay by scuttling a massive ship in such a way that hardly anything could get past it.

Thereby causing a whole lot of people, including many of the rioters, to lose their jobs.

The Fairweather Journey was 275 meters (902ft) long, 50 meters (164ft) wide, had a draft of 17 meters (55ft), and a beam of roughly 60 meters. It was, therefore, quite massive. With the rust and damage accumulated over the years, it was both an eyesore and a hazard to navigation.

So there had been a tip-off to the press and to the mayor's office that ForgeTech was going to remove it. EPA impact statements and other governmental forms had been filed. It was not intended to be a secret but it certainly wasn't intended to be some major event.

Except it was.

"Popcorn! Candy!"

Taylor twitched slightly as she watched from behind a rope barrier that was backed up by six people in power armor.

"Git yer souv-a-niers! Brockton Bay official t-shirts and other merchandise!"

"It was supposed to be a quiet little test of technology," said Taylor to absolutely no one in particular.

One of the power armors looked at her, then glanced out at the crowds just beyond the fencing.

"I noticed," grumbled Taylor. "Believe me, I noticed."

Danny Hebert seemed to find something amusing, but after a few minutes did decide to comment. "Actually, those hot dogs smell good."

"Actually, they're a lot more healthy than I would expect from a pushcart vendor," said Taylor as she adjusted her visor. With a flare of her lab coat, she turned and stalked off.

"So, the device is ready?" asked Danny as they went. Annette was off grading papers and couldn't make it. Fortunately he knew there would be enough recordings to satisfy her later.

Taylor quickly climbed the stairs, then stood atop it the platform to make a dramatic gesture (also flaring out her lab coat again for good measure). "I. Am. Doctor Curlyhair."

"Yay, Doctor Curlyhair!" said a pop-up puppet on her right shoulder.

"Girl genius!" declared a pop-up puppet on her left shoulder.

Perhaps prompted by a sign held up by one vendor, the crowd responded in a roar. "Yes, we know who you are!"

"I didn't," said someone in the back.

"In any case, I'm removing that blockade," said Doctor Curlyhair, pointing out at the container ship Fairweather Journey and then patting the howitzer-sized machine next to her. "This is a Large Scale Deconstruction And Storage Device. Everyone stay clear of the beam, it doesn't affect living tissue but hair and dead skin cells would be affected. So yeah, don't do that. Everyone ready?"

"READY!" roared back the crowd.

"What?" asked someone in the back.

"Switchee On!" declared Doctor Curlyhair, pulling down the nice big red knife switch with a certain degree of glee. Because, really, why wouldn't you want to throw the big red knife switch? Oh well, so there was a crowd so best to explain this stuff. "Laser starts by cutting into things, tractor beam pulls in the pieces, which goes into this hopper here that feeds into this experimental molecular distiller here. Purified material comes out here and is stacked onto pallets."

"Ooooh," said several people in the crowd.

"I don't get it," said someone in the back.

"And now the computer is locking on and I can step back and let it work on automatic," explained Doctor Curlyhair to the crowd. "You see how the wonderful people that work here in the docks have the forklifts all ready to switch pallets out. Down to an art right?"

One of the forklift operators waved at the crowd. They liked that.

* Orbit *

She could see them. For the first time there was enough there that she could actually see the problem instead of this blob of no proper information to model. It wasn't a clear picture, but it was something.

They were there and in the open. It was time to strike and remove this complication.

Even trying to model possible outcomes involving the direct action plan now was uncertain, more darkness appearing with every modeling of the future. There were no certainties, other than that whatever the danger was - it was increasing as time went on.

She began her descent.

20.44.1-Wisdom of the Ancients (600CP)(Warhammer 40k - Necron - SB Edition)(Future Tech Knowledge):
Necron technology is beyond all contenders, comparable to the greatest sorceries of the organics. To change the molecular composition of objects with specific soundwaves, spread madness through the enemy ranks with swirling mists, and manipulate time itself are but a few examples. True heights reach into unbelievable levels, things that violate all laws of nature and logic. It would take a truly brilliant mind to master all this technology, to understand and improve it. A mind such as yours, for example. You have the skills and raw intelligence needed to unravel the greatest, most advanced technologies of your ilk. Not only can you perfectly build and repair Necron technology, you can also adapt it to all sorts of purposes, come up with new tech on a similar level, and even improve the technology. This talent carries over to all forms of technology in future jumps too.

14.22.2-Chakra Books (100CP)(Marvel Cinematic Universe Vol.2)(Database Magical):
It can be difficult for those who are unaware of the world around them to grasp that they know nothing. It can also be difficult to show them just how small their worldview has been all this time, or help them. But the first step to learning is awareness. This is a substantial supply of books regarding the body, such as a map of the nervous system, MRIs, and more importantly, chakra points and how to open them. These maps for the body will help bring awareness to would-be students, and how to show them the wonders of the world or themselves. For an additional undiscounted 100CP, you may also gain a substantial collection of spellbooks that will assist in helping you learn the formation of spells, the art of drawing energies to power them, and the basics in casting them. Just be aware that the warning labels come AFTER the spells.
* The cost includes the upgrade
FREE: You're Welcome, By The Way: You might have noticed that as time went on, a lot of the people here have become... snarky, for a lack of better words. Snippy, bantering, sarcastic, call it whatever you want because they'll call it whatever they want as well. The point is they're not the only ones now. That is, they don't have a monopoly on sounding high and mighty. Mainly because you can keep up with them. Tony Stark's sharp tongue will have competition, the Avengers' humor will have another player, I think you're getting the drift. It doesn't always have to be active, but you can sound like such a magnificent bastard. Why wouldn't you want to do it all the time?
FREE: For the Camera: Smile and wave, just like they want you to. In this day and age it's not enough to simply know what you're talking about or to be rich, you also need to be presentable. Fortunate then, that you know just how to do that. Good public speaking skills, knowing just what to wear, even some quick impromptu hair styling to touch yourself up just right. People love putting a face to actions and events, so put the best one out there.